Keeping Secrets
by angiesvoice
Summary: AU: It is the 1940s. Jane is a closeted, private investigator. Maura is a mystery. When their paths cross, sparks will fly, leaving a wildfire in their path.
1. Prologue

It was not until her mid 20s did she began to truly appreciate the female figure. The men who hired her for her private investigation services were almost always wealthy and late in their lives. They would sit across from her in the brown leather chair of her office and tell tall tales of their wives dalliances. Being the high power and controlling men that were produced by this time, they were suspicious of every little thing their wives did without their explicit knowledge. They paid her handsomely to tail their lives and find out what it was that was keeping them from having dinner on the table at 6 on the dot each afternoon. She didn't complain, but she pitied the old men.

How could she not? The wives of these men were always younger. Ten to fifteen years separated the couples and there was no shock in finding out that the woman decided to search elsewhere for the comfort of a younger partner. With the loss of their husband's sex drive, so did their patience for their marriages held together by a lump sum of money with their names on it, in the case of their spouse's untimely death. After that burden disappeared, there was nothing keeping them from their young lovers who could keep going, all hours of the night.

They could have any man their desired and they knew it. Their bodies, young, curvaceous, and more tempting than an ice cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer's day made heads turn as they walked down the street. At formal functions, round, full breasts teased through low necklines. Heart shaped asses that made you want to reach out and touch, but Jane knew she couldn't. Sure, the world knew lesbians and gays existed, but that didn't mean they were willing to expect the new minority. If you weren't a Christian, white, male the world had a reason to discriminate against you.

But, what could you do? The small minority of homosexuals weren't going to bring change overnight on their own. They would need to support of millions to even scratch the steel armor the homophobia. The world couldn't handle blacks and women. It wouldn't be read to handle gays for a very long time. So, they casted themselves away to the darkest undergrounds the 1940s could offer where everyone was accepted, regardless of race, gender, and sexual orientation.

Just as she was packing to leave for the day, a man in his mid 30s stepped into her small office space. The pinstripe, tailored suit he wore screamed money and lots of it. He carried himself in a way that told you he thought he was better than everyone he passed on the street.

"How can I help you, sir?" Jane asked politely, controlling the annoyance in her voice as she watched him silently criticize her quarters.

"I am in need of your services, detective." He told her, taking a seat in the chair across from her desk before she had the chance to offer. She wasn't going to, but it was presumptions of him to assume she would.

"And by that you mean?"

"I believe my wife is having an affair and I'd like to know with whom, when, and where."

"What makes you think she's having an affair?"

"A man knows when his woman has gone astray. Trust me."

_Yeah, like I'd do that, _she thought sarcastically.

"What evidence do you have of this?"

"The usual things. I do not feel like explaining myself. Are you going to take the job? I can pay you well."

"I do not doubt that. I will take the job, but I'd like to know what will happen if I find evidence proving your claims true?"

"That is none of your concern."

"I'm not putting a fellow woman in danger imply because she has chosen to find pleasure elsewhere."

"I have no intention of physically punishing my wife, detective."

"I should hope so, Mr…."

"Fairfield. Garret Fairfield, the second."

_Wow, Garret Fairfield, the second. You must make tons of friends in the sandbox, _she mocked internally.

"And your wife is?"

"Maura. Maura Isles."


	2. Baby, Come to Me

Before Jane could even think about Garrett Fairfield's case, there were five others that needed her attention.

Michael O'Hanlon suspected that his wife was cheating on him with their gardener. Marcia O'Hanlon was an overly promiscuous woman. Jane learned, from following the woman for two weeks, that she was not just doing the gardener, but also the mail man, bank clerk, and librarian. Having found substantial evidence of this Marcia's infidelity, she called her husband into her office.

The man, white peppering his black hair and age lines on his face, sat across from her sullenly as she relayed the information she had to him. He ran his hands through his fair, a gesture that could note too many things. Jane felt sorry for him. He had three children. It was obvious that he would leave his wife. How does one explain to one's off-spring why one is leaving their mother high and dry because she couldn't control her urges? There was no doubt that Mrs. O'Hanlon would be off the market quickly after the divorce. Her fire red hair made her irresistible to men.

Then, there was James Corinth. He thought that his wife was sleeping with his best friend. Turns out, she was getting down with his brother every Tuesday and Thursday at noon. Mr. Corinth flew into a rage after hearing the news. It took Jane 10 minutes of her time and strength to calm him down and convince him that killing his cheating wife would only make things worse. She chose to not tell him that she'd seen his wife visiting a well known divorce attorney just yesterday. That was Mrs. Corinth's problem to handle.

Being a female detective was difficult in this world. Women were not treated fairly or given the respect they deserve. They were almost second class citizens, like other minorities. It did not help Jane that her best friend and on again, off again partner was black. Barry Frost was a young and aspiring detective but if they were to be practical, it would never happen. The white man hated blacks just as much as women. But the two made a good pair. He worked various jobs around the city to support himself and occasionally assisted Jane in her endeavors when necessary. Sharing drinks at one of the few colored bars in Boston brought them closer. She told him things about herself, within reason and he returned the favor.

After closing a case that ended in divorce, Jane found herself craving an ice cold beer. Frost noticed the longing in her eyes and offered an alternative to getting drunk in a random bar or at home alone. She put her trust in the brown skinned man. She was skeptical but would humor the young fellow anyway.

"Where are you taking me, Frost?" She asked, following him down a dark alley. A trench coat covered hand rose to shield her nose from the putrid smell of decomposing Boston.

"Just trust me, Jane." He told her, looking back at his friend. His smile was reassuring to the nervous woman. At the end of the alley, they came across a red door on the right wall. Frost knocked on it and two brown eyes appeared through a hidden door.

"Password." A deep, rumbling voice asked them. His eyes scrutinized the woman behind the young man.

"Liberty," Frost told him. He still turned his eyes to Jane. "Don't worry, she's safe."

The hidden window closed and the door creaked open. A large man, 6'5 and 300 pounds, stepped to the side and allowed them to enter. She squeezed past him and followed Frost down a flight of stairs. Music hummed through a heavy door at the end.

"You think you can handle this, Rizzoli." He teased.

"Just open the door, smart ass." He turned the handle and heavy bass strums from a guitar hit their bodies. They entered and allowed the door to shut behind them.

"Jane, welcome to _The Blue Note_."

The tall detective took in the room, piece by piece. The color scheme was black and royal blue. Couples, of every combination possible, sat together at the bar and in booths spread across the room, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to each other. There was no limit to the ethnic diversity of these couples. Blacks and whites, whites and Hispanics, blacks and Asians. Having never seen a place like this, Jane was speechless. Frost led her to the bar where a man, who resembled Santa Clause, in a way, stood cleaning wine glasses.

"Haven't seen you around here in a minute, Frost?" The older man said, eyeing the lanky woman who stood before him. Her friend ushered her forward.

"What can I say, I've been busy." He replied. He turned to his partner. "Korsack, meet Jane Rizzoli, Private Investigator. Jane, meet Vincent Korsack, owner of this lovely establishment."

"Nice to meet you, detective." Korsack said, offering his hand. Jane was tempted to not take his hand but did so anyway. Her hands flinched at the contact but her face did not give away her discomfort.

"Likewise, sir. You've got a pretty great place here. The world could use more people like you." She told him sincerely.

"Don't mention it. I just want a place for everyone, not just some." He said. He pulled two ice cold beers from under the counter and handed them to Jane and Frost. Jane reached into her pocket to pay him but a hand stopped her. "First drink is free for members."

"What makes you think I want to be a member?" She asked saucily.

"I've been in this business a while. I know these things." The new friends shared a knowing look. "Frost, if you hurry, you can get the last two seats before Maura comes on."

"Who's Maura?"

"Our in-house goddess." Frost said, leading her to the empty booth in the corner of the room. They took a seat and sipped their beers. After a few moments, the bands stopped and there was movement behind the large blue curtain behind them. A spotlight fell center stage and a blonde woman stepped out.

To say she was just a blonde woman would be an insult. This woman was a goddess in her own right. Jane's mouth watered as her eyes traveled across the soft curves of this woman's body. She imagined feeling every part of this woman's body with her hands, from her voluptuous breasts to her long neck to her hidden cave down below. Honey colored locks fell past bare shoulders. Long legs hid under the deep, red gown that covered her body. Jane felt butterflies in her stomach as she imagined making this woman come over and cover, screaming her name as multiple orgasms rolled through her trembling body. Hazel eyes met hers from across the room and a 10,000 watt smile was sent her way.

"Look like you have an admirer, Jane." Frost teased, earning himself a rough punch in the shoulder. "Ow, I'll be quiet." He told the rapt woman.

The woman on stage stepped in front of the mic and cleared her throat to get people's attention, though it was not necessary. Every eye in the room was on her already. Jane's eyes bugged when from pouty lips came the voice of an angel, melting into the smooth sounds of the band.

_**Silver moon**__**  
**__**Shining on my bed**__**  
**__**Beside my pillow**__**  
**__**Light the pathway**__**  
**__**To bring that [wo]man**__**  
**__**To me**__****_

_**Oh, ooh**__**  
**__**Something tells me**__**  
**__**My words**__**  
**__**Are goin' straight**__**  
**__**To [her] heart**__**  
**__**And ooh**__**  
**__**Somethin' tells me**__**  
**__**You will be all mine**_

She sang a few more notes of the song before feelings confident enough in the strength of her voice and stepping down from the stage and circling the captivated audience members. Some returned her lustful stage smiles and others whistled cat calls as she passed, the occasional man and woman reaching out to feel her heart shaped ass through her long dress. She sassily brushed them off and continued towards her destination. She stopped in front of Jane and Frost's table. She stared the Italian woman down with a flirtatious eye as she sang.

_**Know a secret**__**  
**__**How to make you want me**__**  
**__**How to make you love me**__**  
**__**Whoa**__**  
**__**Sure**__**  
**__**As there's a moon above**__**  
**__**It's a friend of mine**__**  
**__**It still makes you burn**__****_

_**Said, ooh, ooh**__**  
**__**Something tells me**__**  
**__**The fires**__**  
**__**Goin' right up**__**  
**__**Your spine**__**  
**__**Whoa, ooh**__**  
**__**Somethin' tells me**__**  
**__**You will be all mine**__**  
**_

She leaned in close to Jane's body, giving her a front row to her cleavage. The smell of her perfume hypnotized the detective. Their lips nearly touched but she continued to sing. Jane sunk down into her seat, neither accustomed nor comfortable with the near display of affection. Maura smiled hotly as she turned away and walked to the stage. Jane released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her eyes followed the gentle sway of Maura's hips as she strutted away.

"Whoa," Frost whispered, looking over at his flushed companion. "That was something."

"Yeah, it was." Jane replied. After three more songs, she stopped singing and left the stage. Jane excused herself to the bar for a refill. Korsack gave her a knowing look as he popped the cap off a fresh cold one. She leaned her elbows on the polished wood of the counter. She did not sense the presence of a stranger until two small hands were block her escape on either side. She spun around, expecting that she needed to tell someone off for entering her personal space. Instead, she found huge hazel eyes staring back at her.

"Hi," The shorter woman said.

"Hi," Jane replied.

"I'm Maura."

"I know." She told her mysteriously. Maura studied her face and its deep Italian roots. Mesmerized, she reached up to feel soft skin, but was stopped.

"Don't." Jane warned defiantly. Maura smiled as if she expected the rejection. But she knew it wasn't a real rejection.

"A woman who plays hard to get? I do like a challenge." She moved out of Jane's personal bubble and turned to the bar. "Vince, you got a smoke?"

"Yeah," He handed her the box of cigs and lighter from his pants pocket. She thanked him and dashed out the building, but not before winking sassily at the detective. Korsack turned to Jane. "Feisty one, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is." Jane told him, staring at the door that the brazen woman just left through.

"You must be something special. Maura doesn't trust that easily. She hasn't been this into someone in a while. She's a flirt but this is something entirely different. Play nice. I wouldn't want to have to kick your ass for hurting her." He told her, his protective side of the young woman showing.

"Believe me, I have no intention."


	3. Rolling Hills

It was not until three days later did Jane make the conscious decision to return to _The Blue Note. _Every available moment in the three day period, her thoughts were consumed by the honey blonde singer. She thought of her silky smooth voice, dripping with sex, the curves of her body, her soft to touch skin. There was no denying her profound attraction to the woman. It was deciding what to do with that attraction that caused her grief.

She could pursue a relationship, in total secret, with her. The simple existence of _The Blue Note _made it possible for their relationship to flourish in a public atmosphere. They would not have to hide, completely. Behind closed doors, they could be passionate lovers. Jane wanted to know more about the mysterious woman. How old was she? Where was she from? How did she learn about _The Blue Note? _What were her aspirations in life?

On the other hand, she could choose to allow the spark between them to simmer and fade with time. It really was the better option. There was less pain involved. The subsequent failing of their relationship would bring indescribable heartbreak. While she was not ready to verbally admit it, Jane could see herself falling for the blonde. And she could not allow that to happen.

The investigation she was working led her to an apartment just three blocks from the club. She was tailing the wife of Angelo Leone. He believed that his wife was having an affair. He had evidence that she was taking large sums of money from their bank account and was under the impression that she was saving money to run away with her lover. Jane's travels with Andrea Leone led her to believe the same thing. During her outings during the day, she seemed on edge, looking over her shoulder at every turn. Jane sat in her car across the street from the three story building. There was a wealth of movement from the second floor window. Jane suspected that was where Mrs. Leone went. After waiting an hour for the suspect to leave, she abandoned her vehicle and made her way into the building.

She found the door that corresponded with the outside window she saw and knocked. Shortly after, the door swung open slowly, revealing a small woman of sixty-six. The woman looked up at the Italian detective with curious eyes.

"Can I help you, young lady?" She asked politely.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm a private investigator. I have a few questions that I'd like to ask you?"

"May I ask what this is pertaining to?" Jane pulled a black and white photo from her blazer pocket and held it up. The photo was one of Arianna Leone with her husband at a party.

"Ma'am, how do you know this woman?" The woman took the picture of Jane's hand and looked at it intently.

"Well, this woman is my daughter."

And there it was. So, as the story does, Andrea Leone's family came from high society, old money. Her mother married, Sophia Black, married into the lifestyle. Along the line, years after giving birth to Andrea, she made the grave mistake of having an affair with her husband's business partner. When all her dirty laundry was aired to her socialite friends and family, she was casted out. Her husband divorced her with nothing but the clothes on her back and her maiden name. After the death of her father six months ago, Andrea went on a mission to find her mother, having all of the vital information needed to find her, hidden for most of her life. She found her mother, living in an apartment on the not so great side of town. She moved her to a good neighborhood and helped to provide for the woman who spent the latter half of her life regretting her mistake and the loss of her daughter.

The entire story really was very touching. It made Jane rethink the relationship she had with her own mother. Angela Rizzoli was your typical Italian mother: loud and nosey. She couldn't help but meddle in her children's lives. When she was not setting Jane up with possible suitors, she was fretting over her brother, Frankie's decision to be a cop. Since women were not allowed to be police officers, Jane chose to be a private investigator. It was close was she was going to get. Frankie, on the other hand, had the option of working his way through the force, hoping to make it to detective. He looked up to his sister. Though beat work was not very interesting, he lived vicariously through his Jane's sometimes dangerous work. Angela did not like it, but what could she do? Her children were as stubborn as she.

After making a few notes about her findings, Jane abandoned her car and walked the few blocks to the non-segregated gay club. Making sure she was not being followed, she snuck down the dim alley as the sun began to set over Boston. Coming to a full stop outside door at the end, she raised her fist to knock. Again, two brown eyes stared back at her through the hidden slot.

"Password?"

"Liberty." She cautiously eased her way past the bouncer, the heavy vibrations of a double bass. She pushed open the door, making eye contact with Korsack at the bar.

"Hey, Rizzoli," He called, cleaning a spot at the counter for her. "I know you'd be back. No one can resist Maura's charm."

"What makes you think I came back for her?"

"Then, it must be to look at my beautiful face?" He teased, rubbing his grey beard. Jane laughed.

"In your dreams, old man,"

"I'm not even old enough to be your father." He told her, the lie slipping off his tongue with ease. Jane broke into a full smile. He brushed her off. "What can I get you?"

"Beer, please."

"Coming right up," He reached under the bar for the drink. He popped the cap of on the edge of the counter and handed it to her. "Hurry, Maura is about to go on." She paid him for the drink and scurried to the last empty seat front stage. She sipped her beer and leaned back into her chair.

When Maura appeared from behind the curtain, Jane's jaw hit the floor. The emerald green dress that hugged the woman's body left nothing to be desired. Racy could not adequately describe the garment. The bottom stopped at least four inches above her knees, displaying long, toned legs and calves. A long, thin strip of fabric held the top, which was more bra-like than top-like, and the skirt together. The curves of her body were exposed for all to see. Honey blonde hair cascaded over bare shoulders. The color complimented her hazel eyes and the green eye shadow she wore. Maura made direct eye contact with her and winked. Jane felt her mouth go dry as she libido screamed for her to take the seductress right there on stage.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to a special someone. I think she knows who she is. Baby, this one's for you." Jane's cheeks and neck went hot as she 'caught' the kiss blown at her. She tried to rub out the tension between her thighs as the music began and Maura started singing.

_**Well well well well well well well**__**  
**__**Maybe you don't recognize what you got between ya thighs, come on (well)**__**  
**__**So I'm gonna set you right**__**  
**__**And I'm starting here tonight well (well)**__**  
**__**Shine like the moon**__**  
**__**And strong like the sea (well)**__**  
**__**More expensive than money, more valuable than anything (well)**__**  
**__**Juicy mango summer peach (well)**__**  
**__**Make a lame man walk and a full man hungry**__**  
**__**Well well well well**_

_**And if you don't know what I'm saying then baby I'm telling you**__**There's power in them rolling hills, come on**__**  
**__**You're a prize possession, not everybody's worthy**__**  
**__**Only reason I know is cause I headed down that road**__**  
**__**And it'd be a shame for you not to have your own glow, Come on (well)**__**  
**__**W-w-w-w-well well**__**  
**__**W-w-w-w-well well**__**  
**__**Welllll**_

The burning between her legs increased with each word. She wanted nothing more than to soothe the itch. Yes, Jane Rizzoli was raised to be a good catholic girl, but even she realized that there were some things she could not control. Masturbation was nothing something she experimented with until she left home. Since relationships were not frequent for her, controlling the sexual desires that she had as a human being became a problem. It took some convincing from a friend who noticed her frustration to get her to travel to her nether regions. The first time, she was unsure of what to do. How could she? It was not like there were classes in catholic school about how to pleasure one's self. It would be unethical and sinful.

_**Maybe you don't recognize what you got between your eyes (well)**__**  
**__**So I'm gonna set you correct so you can get what you should get (well)**__**  
**__**Intuition's something sweet (well)**__**  
**__**Let you know what you know, let you find before you seek (well)**__**  
**__**Spirit of discernment, pray for it every day (well)**__**  
**__**Let you know who should go and who you should let stay (well)**_

_**And if you don't know what I'm saying then baby I'm telling you**__**  
**__**(Well, well)**__**There's power in them rolling hills, come on (well, well)**__**  
**__**You're a prize possession, not everybody's worthy (well, well)**__**  
**__**To feel, only reason I know is cause I headed down that road (well, well)**__**  
**__**And it'd be a shame for you not to have your own glow (well, well)**_

The song slowly faded out and into a few one. The throbbing between Jane's legs did not cease. It grew more intense as visions of Maura naked beneath her own body, writhing as she brought the woman to sweet ecstasy, zoomed through her consciousness. She sipped her beer in hopes of relieving her mouth of the cotton-like dryness. Maura sang three more songs before hopping off the stage in her six inch feels. She sauntered toward Jane, the sway of her hips hypnotizing the woman.

"I didn't think you would come back." She commented, taking a seat in the recently vacated chair next to Jane. Her legs were crossed at the knee in a very proper way. Her already short dress rode up, revealing pale, smooth thighs. Her eyes trailed up into the hidden unknown. "My eyes are up here, detective."

Jane's cheeks burned with the embarrassment of getting caught staring. "How did you know I was a detective?"

"After I met you the other night, I decided to ask around about you. I only heard great things."

"Uh…thanks." Maura looked at her either dark, sultry eyes. Jane imagined what those eyes would look like as she came hard and fast under her. She pushed the thought into the dark recesses of her mind, for the time being.

"With such great recommendations, I was hoping to get to know you more. Can I buy you a drink?" Maura batted her long eyelashes, daring Jane to refuse her. Having not been given a definite 'no,' she pulled the tall woman to her feet and dragged her to the bar. "Vince, can I get two shots of whiskey?"

"Sure thing, doc."

"Doc?" Jane asked, taking a seat on the stool in front of her.

"Maura, here, is a doctor. Degree and everything."

"Hmm, a degree, impressive." She threw back the shot handed to her and turned to her companion. "What else is there do know about you?"

"Well-"

"Maura!" The drummer called from the stage. He motioned for her to come to him for the start of the next set.

"I guess I have to go. I really do want to get to know you more." She looked deep into Jane's deep, brown eyes in search for any trepidation. When she found none, she leaned into the woman's body. Her eyes locked on soft lips. "I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

Jane smiled slyly. "I don't kiss women whose name I don't know." Returning the smile, Maura leaned in and captured Jane's waiting lips. It was chaste for own standards but the jolt of electricity that flowed between them was enough for her to want to kiss the woman over and over. When her drummer called for her again, she pulled away, her lipstick smeared. She seductively wiped all evidence of their kiss and pressed her lips to Jane's ear.

"My name is Maura. Maura Isles."

* * *

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	4. Author's Note

Okay. I know everyone following this story hates me right now. And I don't blame you.

But don't give up on my yet.

I have been experiencing a serious bout of writer's block. Voters of option won for this chapter, but I am having trouble writing right now. This story is becoming more complex than anything I've ever written. But that does not mean I am going to quit. I care about my writing and my readers too much to do that.

My friend who is a writer is going to help me out this week. If her help produces anything worthy of being posted, expect something soon.

Thanks you for your patience and support. I love every single one of you. If you want updates, feel free to hit me up on tumblr on my fandom blog angiesvoice. I know I don't deserve your kindness right now and I will do anything to make up for being such a shitty person.

Bye everyone.

P.S.

Anyone following any of my other stories, you will be receiving a message similar to this today as well.


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